


angels roll their eyes

by jolie_unfiltrd



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Because of Reasons, Come Marking, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jon Snow and Gendry Waters are Best Friends, Jon Snow and Sansa Stark Are Not Related, Like I wanted to write about it, Pearl Necklace, Praise Kink, Sansa is Secretly Kinky, The End, Vibrators, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21809614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolie_unfiltrd/pseuds/jolie_unfiltrd
Summary: Sansa has a Thing for Jon Snow - and for pretending she doesn't know what certain sexual acts are so that he will explain them to her, rubbing the back of his neck and blushing on their shared couch.Third time's the charm; a not-so-stranger's comment on her new YouTube cooking channel leads to some interesting conversations and revelations.***{fic title: cruel summer by taylor swift)
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 33
Kudos: 258





	angels roll their eyes

**Author's Note:**

> happy holiday season!  
> i present to you - the kink fic that was promised.  
> (by me, like five days ago, when i was inspired to write it by my own filthy mind).   
> i'm not goint to lie, this was at least 40% inspired by kristoff in frozen. "someone has to tell him!" 
> 
> ANYWAY

Sansa Stark was a simple woman. (Although she could hear Arya's voice protesting that statement even as she finished it).

Well, alright, she was a complex woman, with needs and desires and things she loathed - butternut squash, inexplicably - and things she loved - Lady, lemon cakes, Louboutins, in that order - but most importantly, and this was the simple part: she loved flustering the hell out of her accidental roommate, Jon Snow. 

Jon had been out a roommate after Sam eloped with a pregnant Gilly. Sansa had been searching classified ads in the early dawn post-graduation, trekking the long way across town to get to her first job from the Stark manor in the countryside.

Arya had practically shoved them together. And by that, of course, Sansa meant that her sister had packed her bags, invited Sansa to come along for a girl's shopping day, and then dropped her off at Jon's, without so much as a by-your-leave.

They'd lived together for almost five months before she saw him shirtless for the first time since they were children, and it took genuine effort not to fan herself dramatically and swoon onto the hand-me-down couch. She had never really considered Jon in a sexual way before - because, gods above, it was _Jonathan Snow_ , resident brooding dumbass who had awful taste in music - but Sansa promptly reconsidered her stance.

She could now confidently say, after several weeks of carefully orchestrated orgasms - wrought from her lips entirely in the hours when Jon was absent from their apartment, which had dreadfully thin walls, that she could _absolutely_ see the aesthetic appeal of the broad shoulders, the narrow waist, the fucking _forearms_. In fact, she wanted them to hoist her against the wall while he -

Ahem.

So, she liked his body. She wanted his body all up on her body.

But it wasn't that simple. They were _roommates_. They had a _lease_. If she made a move on him and it got awkward - which it would, of course, because, hello, Jonathan - then everything would be so fucking weird for the next six months.

It didn't stop her from toying with him, mercilessly, and pretending to be an absolute innocent in all manner of things.

Sex things, in particular.

Flustering him was far too easy - and it was far too much fun to stop.

\---

Sansa toed off her high heels and placed them carefully in her closet, slipping out of her black mini-dress and into her matching pajama set with the lace trim. She only stumbled a little, and blamed the half-bottle of champagne she had been responsible for consuming at Sam and Gilly's post-baby we-got-married bash.

"I'm never drinking again," Arya hiccupped, laying face-down on Sansa's coverlet. It was an outright lie and they both knew it. Arya had a beer on Sansa's nightstand at that very moment. 

Sansa peeked out into the hallway - Gendry and Jon had volunteered to walk the wolves, as they called them, once they got back to Sansa and Jon's apartment - before turning back to whisper to her sister, to the tune of 'Do You Want to Build A Snow-Man' (the song that had been tormenting their dreams for weeks since little Sam's third birthday):

"Do you want to mess with Jon Snow?"

"Ah, hell yeah," Arya sat up, slurring slightly but with fists pumped in the air. "Wait, is it a sex thing again?"

"Well-"

"Dammit, Sansy." Arya fell back against the coverlet once more. "Will you just bang him and get it over with?"

"No, and you know why-"

"Yes yes, lease _shmease_ , whatever! Just put him out of his misery and let your vibrators off the hook."

"Please?" Sansa said, sliding her pajama top over her lace bralette, and stepping into her monogrammed slippers. "It could be fun?"

Arya merely grunted.

Sansa inched closer, before sitting next to her sister's head and stroking her hair gently. "Do you remember Gendry from last month's karaoke night?"

Arya lifted her arm from where it was covering her eyes, curiosity piqued. "When he thought you didn't know what a boner was?"

Sansa smirked. "No, that was from our night out with Jon's university friends. Karaoke was when I -"

"- sang Whistle? And Gendry asked me if you knew what a blowjob was?” Arya busted out laughing, holding her stomach. "The panicked look in his eyes... I mean, gods, you’re 24 and we live in a world where the internet exists. But they are so _convinced_ of your innocence. God, okay, I'm in. I mean," she paused to clarify, "I think this will-they won't-they has gone on long enough but I love messing with Gendry, so, let's do this."

\---

Sansa waited until Gendry and Jon had returned from their walk with the bouncy pups, and pretended that she and Arya had been deep in their conversation about her new YouTube channel: RedCooks. She scrolled through her phone and draped her feet over Arya's lap, as the brunette scrolled through Netflix absentmindedly.

"I swear, some of the comments are just plain weird."

Arya eyed her suspiciously. "What do you mean, weird? I expected trolls and obviously some worship but-"

Jon cracked open a beer behind them in the kitchen, slipping Ghost a treat before he raised the bottle to his lips.

"Like, hmm, this one for example, SailorHottie25 said: girl, I want to paint you a pearl necklace. Like, what?"

Sansa didn't even raise her head as Jon spat out his beer.

"Does he mean give you a pearl necklace?" Arya's eyes were twinkling as she watched Gendry start to bounce his leg nervously as he stared at the both of them, eyes wide.

"I don't know - maybe. I should probably respond to clarify, right? See if he meant he wanted to give me pearls? Because I'd love a new set of pearls." Sansa laughed as she continued to scroll, determinedly not making eye contact with her sister, aiming to avoid breaking down into the giggles and giving up the ghost. 

\---

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Gendry and Jon made panicked eye contact, and huddled together near the pantry. 

"Someone should tell her," they whispered in near-unison, before Gendry poked an accusing finger into the shorter man's chest.

"No," he shook his head, determinedly. "This family is weird as fuck but I _draw the fucking_ _line_ at telling my girlfriend's sister that a pearl necklace means some guy wants to come on her throat."

Jon's hands clenched into fists at the mention of Sansa's tits from Gendry's mouth, but he managed to calm himself enough to offer a rebuttal. "No."

"No, what?"

"No, I - "

"Jon, you _have_ to."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I -"

"See, you don't even have a good reason." 

"I have a very good reason."

"And what is it?"

"I - I, um, well - "

"Gods be good, man. You're telling her."

Jon's face darkened as he whispered back, furiously, "Why am _I_ somehow the one in charge of Sansa Stark's sex education?" This was, to be fair, at least the third time this month that Sansa had been unaware of some obvious sexual thing that she _definitely_ could have Googled. But did she? No.

Gendry raised his eyebrows lasciviously. 

"Oh, fuck off, that's not what I meant."

"Oh," Gendry chortled with delight, "I think that's exactly what you meant, and I don't think you're really that mad about it, mate."

Jon honestly did not have a good response to that one. Gendry was, unfortunately, completely correct. There was something about telling Sansa about these lewd sex acts, watching the blush spread across her collarbone and up her cheeks to the tips of her ears, hearing her swallow heavily - it made him want to take a very long, involved shower with the music at full volume so she couldn't hear as he came with her name on the tip of his tongue.

God, he wanted her mouth on the tip of his -

"And with that, we'll be going," Gendry laughed, seeing the look in his best friend’s eyes. “Arya! We’re leaving!”

He stomped into the living room, swung Arya up over his shoulder, despite her outrageously loud protests, waved goodbye to Sansa, and slammed the front door.

Arya stormed back in two seconds later. She grabbed her beer from the coffee table, saluted the pair of them, and then re-slammed the front door upon exiting.

Sansa glanced over to where Jon stood, shoulders hunched and hands in his pockets, near the pantry. "Did you guys get in a fight?" She asked, eyebrows raised in a show of innocence that she certainly did not feel.

(They were really shit at whispering. Someone should tell _them_ that, although she certainly wouldn't. Not when it gave her tidbits about Jon's secret desires). (Jon's Secret Desires. Honestly, she should write romance novels and just slap a picture of him shirtless on the cover. They'd sell like lemon cakes).

"Uh, no, they just - uh, they have an early workout tomorrow."

"Oh."

Sansa turned back to the television for another few moments, waiting for Jon to kick off his tennis shoes and come settle on the other end of the couch. It was inevitable, really, the way he rubbed the back of his neck and turned to her, a flush already spreading across his cheeks.

“Sansa,” he said, lowly, “I feel like I should tell you-”

“Tell me what, Jon?” she teased, dragging out the syllables of his name before sipping her water. (It wouldn’t do to get too drunk to remember what might come next).

“ - what that comment on your YouTube channel meant.”

“Oh, by SailorHottie?” Sansa was 99.9% sure that username was Theon. One, because only he would comment something like that on a video. Two, because she set up his profile. And three – because she gave him her last remaining REI gift card to bribe him to do it. She was rather dedicated to her mission to torment Jon. 

Jon cleared his throat, as he nodded and turned to face her completely.

“What did it mean?” Sansa widened her eyes, and looked up at him, the picture of pure innocence. He did his best to keep his eyes from wandering where her pajama shirt threatened to slip from her pale shoulder, revealing a thin lace strap underneath. He resisted the urge to follow where it led.

“A pearl necklace – it’s – um,” he hesitated, but thought it best just to go for it: “It’s when a guy orgasms and his cum lands on his partner’s throat. Like a – like a necklace.”

“Oh!” Sansa blushed a pale pink, and her gaze darted away from his own.

“Yeah, so I wouldn’t follow-up on that.“ Jon turned back towards the TV and took another sip of his beer, content that they’d had the conversation, he’d made sure she wouldn’t get into a sticky situation (pun not intended), and his strange job as her sexual educator was complete.

“Would you show me?”

Jon nearly spit out his beer again. “Show you?”

Sansa tilted her head to the side, a glint in her eyes that he was starting to recognize, as a coy smile curled up the edges of her lips. “Show me. How else will I know if I want it or not?”

Jon tried, desperately, not to picture it - but gods, he could. Vividly. In technicolor.

The scene plays on loop in his mind: Sansa on her knees, some lacy concoction barely covering her tits, and his hand pumping his cock right above her open, willing, panting mouth.

He swallowed hard, and was nodding before he even realized it.

Sansa kicked off her monogrammed slippers and inched closer on the couch. There was something suspicious about… well, everything, and he couldn’t resist asking: “Have you been messing with me? This whole time?”

She grinned, unabashed and unapologetic. “Not the entire time. I really didn’t know what that first thing was –“

“Bukkake?”

“-and now, knowing, I wouldn’t ask you to show me.” She winked.

“But you want me to show you this?”

“I want you to show me anything, really,” she murmured, pupils dilated and biting her lip. It was true, it was honest, and it was the closest she’d come to admitting how much she wanted him.

At least, to his face. Arya, Margaery, and her journal didn’t really count. (I mean, don’t tell them that, but…)

He nodded, slowly, feeling both like he’d been duped and also, that he didn’t mind very much. Sansa had shown up at his doorstep, thanks to Arya, months ago and it somehow felt like she’d always been a part of his life. Besides, he’d been jacking off in the shower to the thought of her since he saw her in a bikini after her sophomore year of undergrad. Jon hadn’t thought she’d be interested in him.

This changed things. Drastically. 

Jon smirked, before turning to yank her into his lap, nuzzling his face along the curve of her neck, taking a distinct pleasure in the shiver that traversed her spine. “You wicked, clever girl.”

Sansa did her very, absolute best not to whimper at the way he spoke to her. She only halfway succeeded, wriggling in his lap in an effort to gain more friction.

“If you told me you wanted me, we could have been doing this _ages_ ago.” He pressed open-mouthed kisses along the underside of her jaw.

“I – I didn’t think you wanted me,” she whispered, breathless.

“I’d be a fool twice over not to want you.” Jon brought his other hand up to the back of her neck, bringing her closer for a searing kiss.

She kissed him with reckless abandon, sucking his bottom lip, building a steady crescendo until she felt she could barely breathe, barely move, and she wanted so much _more_. Jon pulled back to inhale, and she quickly shifted so that she was straddling him, pressing her hips against his and feeling _just_ how much he wanted her.

It was intoxicating, really.

“Can I – “ he murmured against her lips, his hands at the buttons of her pajama top.

Sansa curled her fingers around the back of his neck, kissed the tip of his nose and replied, simply, “Anything, Jon.”

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” His hesitance made her pull back and offer a reassuring smile.

“Or if I don’t like it, I’ll tell you, I promise.” She appreciated the check-in; always good to communicate well with your sex partners. She’d learned that lesson from Margaery and her mishap with a certain man who may or may not have preferred her brother.

Jon nodded, before capturing her lips with his own once more, popping open button after button on her top and pushing it from her shoulders, running his hands up and down her back and groaning at the sight of her lace bralette.

Sansa smirked, it barely contained her breasts – her nipples were peeking out of the top, and the cleavage was rather impressive, if she did say so herself. “Like what you see?” She rotated her hips in his lap, already answering her own question.

Jon shook his head and laughed. “Wicked, terrible minx,” he said, punctuating each word with a kiss along the swell of her breasts. She wrapped her hands around the back of his head and encouraged him to stay there – and oh, if he didn’t take direction so well. He licked along her cleavage, and pulled down the edge of the bralette to reveal her breasts in full, letting them bounce out of their confines as she ground her hips against him, needing more and more friction.

She was surprised, honestly, that she hadn’t soaked through her pajama shorts and lace bottoms yet – surprised Jon hadn’t stripped her completely naked, yet, surprised she hadn’t stood up and done the job herself. She was starting to feel hollow, aching, throbbing.

This was the time she would normally –

“I –“ She gasped, feeling his tongue flick across her nipple as his hand pinched the other one, and she could be forgiven for losing all trains of thought for a while. He lavished his attentions on her nipples, pinching and pulling and sucking and licking until she was dizzy with desire, and half-incoherent. But feeling him buck up against her was a reminder.

“I have an idea,” she said breathlessly, peeling herself from his lap and standing on shaky legs.

“Yeah?” Jon murmured, dark eyes tracing every inch of her.

Sansa sauntered towards her bedroom, looking back over her shoulder and gesturing for him to follow with a coy smirk. She stepped out of her pajama shorts, neatly depositing them on top of her dresser, before opening the top drawer with an efficient yank.

Jon had lost his shirt and his pants by the time he arrived, standing in the doorway in only his boxer briefs. He crossed his arms and watched her curiously, a devilish smirk on his lips as she dug around, pulling out one vibrator, then two, setting them on the top of her dresser.

“You keep your toys in your underwear drawer, Sansa Stark? What a cliché,” he teased.

She glared up at him. She dug around a little more and found the double-ended dildo that she’d never been brave enough to suggest with any other partner, but that she’d had a delightful time acclimating to by herself – and slammed it on the dresser.

Jon swallowed heavily, gaze lingering on the narrow elastic straps meant to go around her hips. “Is that what you – “ He cleared his throat. “Is that what you were looking for?”

Sansa allowed a wicked grin to cross her face as she looked him up and down, contemplatively. “Next time, maybe.” She took pleasure in the way he licked his lips and the way his cock pulsed in his briefs. She considered that she _might,_ actually, be brave enough to suggest fucking Jon with a strap-on. He seemed more than amenable to the situation – but for right now, she was determined to find out if her current fantasy was as good as it seemed.

Finally, she found the vibrator she was looking for – thick and curved and with the perfect curve to stimulate both her clit and her G-spot, simultaneously. It had been a birthday gift from Margaery, and _gods_ , what a gift. She grabbed it and set it on her nightstand, before laying down on her bed and cocking a finger at Jon.

A smile played across his lips as he strode to the end of her bed. “You’re gorgeous,” he said, voice rough with desire and wanting. He began to crawl up the bed, placing teasing kisses at her ankles, the curve of her calf, the inside of her knee – until she was writhing with pleasure and frustration both, whimpering for something _more_.

His fingertips traced her inner thigh. He nipped at the soft skin there, and just when she propped herself on her elbows, glaring down at him, about to scold him for teasing her so – he licked her cunt through the soaked lace, putting just enough pressure to make her eyes roll back and her breath catch in her throat. “Jon,” she groaned. “Please, you’re killing me.”

He licked her again, dark eyes fixed on hers as he said, “Good.”

She whimpered and fell back onto the bed, shifting her hips in a bid for more. Jon hooked a finger in the lace underwear and pulled it to the side, before changing his mind and pulling them off of her long legs completely.

She protested half-heartedly, but his argument was sound enough. “I want to see you,” he said, and she found herself on her back with her legs spread wide, eager for more of his touch, more of his tongue.

Jon slid a finger into her wet heat, dark eyes fixated on her, studying her reaction as he curved his finger upwards and she gasped, pushing her hips down as if to take more of him, as if she needed more. He pulled out and she whined at the loss, before he added two more fingers and pushed into her, slowly at first, but building up speed until he was well-and-truly fingerfucking her into oblivion.

Sansa could feel her breasts heaving as she rotated her hips, trying to take him impossibly deeper, wanting more and more and more – even as she could hear the obscene sounds of his fingers encased in her cunt, dripping in her juices. The throbbing that had been building since he first pulled her into his lap – or even months before, if she was being honest – was starting to crescendo into something lovely, but she couldn’t quite get there, not just with his fingers in her cunt.

Then, his tongue flicked in a rapid staccato pattern against her clit – and _that_ sent her blissfully over the edge, her cunt clenching around his fingers as she came, his name on her lips.

When she came to, his fingers were still slowly pulsing in and out of her, and while she often hated to be touched just after her orgasm, this was so unbearably pleasant that she didn’t want to ask him to stop.

“Good girl,” he crooned, moving up the bed to kiss her fondly, leaning on his elbow as he watched her. A shiver ran up and down her spine at the sight of him, hair ruffled, her juices on his chin, a self-satisfied smirk on the edges of his lips. “You did so good.”

“I need –“ she paused, considering, thinking about the way she felt like she could come like this, over and over again.

“Could you take more?” he asked.

She nodded without thinking.

He grinned, pulling his fingers out of her and sliding back in with one more. Sansa’s eyes fluttered as her back arched and she moaned, lowly, feeling so unbearably, delightfully full. “Oh, what a good girl you are,” he murmured, the pleasure in his voice apparent. “Look at you, taking all of my fingers so easily, sinking into your delicious cunt, I’m so proud of you.”

Sansa was not entirely surprised to find out that she had a bit of a thing for him praising her like this – the way her body is set aflame from his words, the way her heart pounds and she wants to spread her legs and nestle in closer to him. (It was Jon Snow, and who _ever_ would have predicted he’d be such a delight in bed? Well, she had, but it had been more of a hopeful guess, really). When he praised her, gods, she wanted to do _anything_ he asked, just to hear him say it again.

“Jon,” she whined, licking her lips as she stared at him, as she tried to reach with one hand down the trace the elastic at the top of his boxer briefs.

He chuckled lowly, snatching her hand away and pinning it above her head. “Ah, ah, Sansa, if you want something, you have to _ask_.”

She did not want to ask, she wanted to demand. She wanted to flip them over and ride him to at least one more orgasm before collapsing, boneless, on the bed. In the morning, hopefully Jon would make his infamous waffles, and they could do it all over again.

But the look in his eyes – he was testing her. Bastard.

Fuckable bastard, unfortunately. Who was doing all manner of lovely things to her and pressing all of her literal and metaphorical buttons.

 _Goddammit_.

Sansa narrowed her eyes, before murmuring, nicely and with all of her manners: “Please, can I touch you?” 

“No.”

His quick reply took her aback. “No?”

“No.” His grin was downright cheerful. “You’ve been tormenting me for months. This is your punishment.”

Sansa decidedly ignored the thrill that went down her spine at the sound of the words rolling off of his tongue. Unfortunately, she had forgotten the two fingers he was leisurely thrusting into her cunt. He raised his eyebrow.

“Oh, pretty girl, you _like_ the idea of a punishment.” He pressed his body along every curve of hers, nuzzled in next to her jaw and peppered light, biting kisses along her neck. “That’s generally not the idea, but I’ll allow it. This time.”

She swallowed heavily and tried a different approach: “Will you fuck me? Please?”

His cock jumped against her leg, his pupils went wide, and a triumphant smile flashed on her face.

“Is that a yes?”

“That’s a fuck yes,” said Jon, roughly. He carefully eased his fingers out of her cunt – she gasped at how empty she felt without his fingers, and how badly she wanted his cock to fill her up instead – and turned to the side, eagerly stripping out of his boxer briefs.

She started to trace her fingertips down towards her clit – and laughed when he caught her hands and brought them up above her head. Her laugh turned into a groan as she saw Jon take himself in hand, aligning with her wet, hot heat and looking at her.

“You sure about this?” His gray eyes were uncertain, cautious, hesitant for the first time since her lips had found his on the couch. She had thought about this, endlessly, and probably over-thought all of the possible consequences. No matter how this ended, she had long ago decided it would be worth it, to taste him, to touch him, to feel him inside of her.

“I’ve never been more sure,” she said, rolling her hips up and into him. “Fuck me, Jon, or I’ll-“

They never found out what she was threatening. He thrust into her, and a low moan spilled from her lips as she closed her eyes and threw her head to the side. She felt so _full_ , in a way she hadn’t expected from being fucked with his fingers just minutes before. Sansa hadn’t really gotten a good look at him, she had been too distracted by the myriad of ways he was tormenting her, but gods above and below, the feel of this man on top of her… it was incredible.

It was easily, already, the best sex she’d ever had – and they’d barely gotten started.

Jon had waited for her to adjust to him, to his size and girth, eyes trained on her face, waiting until she was ready for him to move – and then he pulled back until he was nearly lost from her, before slamming back in once more, setting a brutal pace. Breathy moans echoed from her lips, a chorus of oh, oh, _oh_.

It was no surprise that it took her a minute to realize there was a litany of filth pouring from his lips – _sweet girl, dirty girl, you like it when I fuck you like this, huh? You like it when I fuck you into the bed? Oh, look at you, good girl, taking my cock like that, god you’re so gorgeous like this, I want to bend you over and_ – but she couldn’t help the way that her brows shot up even as she writhed in pleasure underneath him.

Jon’s hips kept pistoning into her even as he pulled back. “What?”

“I just –“ She moaned and he smirked, smugness written all over his face. “I never would have thought you’d be so… talkative in bed.”

“I never thought you’d seduce me into bed by pretending not to know what sex things were, so we’re even,” he laughed.

She couldn’t help but laugh in return, even as she arched her back and rolled her hips. “It worked, though.”

Jon brought his arms up to cradle her head, kissed her forehead rather tenderly for someone who just told her that she was _such a good little slut_ , and grinned at her. “You don’t see me complaining.”

They fell easily into a rhythm – his words murmured in her ear even his hands roamed all over her body. Each time she tried to reach down to tangle her fingers in his hair, or trace her fingernails along the curve of his back, he’d shake his head and bring her arms back over her head. Eventually, she just left them there and enjoyed his ministrations.

Sansa could feel another orgasm starting to build, and she was reminded again how lovely it was to have someone who paid enough attention to her to understand how to help it build, what parts to pinch, to stroke, to stoke the fire and set her nerves aflame.

But just as she was about to topple over the edge, Jon pulled out and off of her. She wanted to scold him, but all she could manage was a breathy whimper as she rubbed her legs together and watched him stand next to the bed. She’d trusted him this far, right?

“You wanted me to show you, right?” The uncertainty again – the wondering of _am I playing this right? Am I doing what you wanted?_ Sansa would have to explain to him later that he was literally checking every sexual box of hers in way that made her suspicious he had read her journal or her texts to Margaery or something.

“Yes,” Sansa said, eyes trained on the beauty of his body, the broad shoulders, and the way his hand was stroking up and down his cock, casually. Gods, he was remarkable.

“C’mere then, Sansa.” He gestured to the floor in front of him.

She swallowed heavily but moved until she was kneeling in front of him. Sansa was oddly entranced by the sight of his cock so close to her face, his hand moving over it in steady, controlled movements. She wanted to lick it. She wanted to take it deep in her throat and - 

“Now,” he ordered, interrupting her fantasy rather rudely, “grab the vibrator and put it in. Don’t turn it on until I say so.”

Sansa inhaled sharply – seriously, did he have a manuscript hidden somewhere? How to woo Sansa Stark sexually? – before doing as he asked. The vibrator was always bigger than she remembered. Usually, she’d use one hand to spread herself wide, before easing down onto the bulbous tip.

Usually, she’d be too shy to do this in front of someone else.

But this, this was Jon – and everything had been good so far.

So she opened herself up to his molten gaze, and worked onto the vibrator, sinking down onto it in one swift movement, nearly knocking her over the edge into an orgasm once more. Aware that he had told her not to turn it on yet, she rested her hands delicately on her trembling thighs.

“Gods, you’re perfect,” he murmured.

Sansa looked up at him through her lashes – fully aware of the picture she made, and feeling so indescribably powerful, sensual, and captivated by the man in front of her. Instinctively, she knew where this was going, and she was eager to experience it for the first time.

She opened her mouth, stuck her tongue out, and looked up at him.

Jon groaned as his hand moved faster and faster along his cock, staring at her with his dark gaze, broad shoulders towering over her, until he nodded at her in warning, and came all over her throat and breasts. Hot cum splattered across her chest and tongue and chin – and she kept her mouth wide, her tongue out, eager for every last drop of his cum.

As soon as he had finished, he dropped to his knees in front of her, reached between her legs, and turned on the vibrator.

It took maybe thirty seconds of Jon touching her, praising her, gently pulsing the vibrator between her legs until Sansa came so hard that she blacked out.

When she came to, she was draped on her bed, with a wet washcloth gently cleaning between her legs, across her chest and around her neck. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at Jon with a little bit of wonder.

“Oh, good,” Jon grinned, “you’re alive.”

Sansa rolled her eyes and nudged him with her foot, snatching the washcloth from his capable hands. “Ha ha, Jon Snow. You indirectly would have caused my death, so don’t get too smug.”

“I would never confess.”

“The great unsolved death of our time: Sansa Stark, dies from the best sex of her life.” Sansa could, oddly, imagine the tombstone - and her sister laughing uproariously even as Robb tried to wrestle Jon into a plot of his own. 

\---

“So,” Jon cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, as she came back from the bathroom, pulling his t-shirt over her head and throwing her hair up into a bun before she crawled back onto the bed. “What did you think?”

“Did you not hear me say, best sex of my life?” Sansa smiled broadly and yanked Jon down next to her. He obligingly wrapped his arm around her waist and tucked her under his chin. She could feel him smiling in return as they drifted off to sleep.

“We should fuck again tomorrow.”

“I’ll do whatever you want, this time,” Jon muttered into her hair.

“Will you make waffles?”

“That too,” he said, sleepily. “Whatever you want, love.”

She jolted in surprise and looked over at Jon – but he was already asleep. A soft smile crossed her lips and she snuggled into his broad chest. Somehow, this whole thing might turn out even better than she anticipated. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! let me know what you thought :) 
> 
> as always, you can come fangirl with me at my tumblr: jolie_unfiltrd.


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